


harana

by doofusface



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Crushes, Cultural References, F/M, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gen, Harana, Love, Mutual Pining, Prom, wingman Ned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 12:57:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13952028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doofusface/pseuds/doofusface
Summary: It’s a terrible idea. Ned knows it’s a terrible idea, but Peter kept insisting on something midway from the dull, regular motions of asking someone out to prom with just words and the hyper-exuberance of declaring his undying love in front of the whole school.So here’s Peter.In front of Michelle’s house.Speaker in hand and only one backup singer (Ned) in case he falters.





	harana

**Author's Note:**

> harana - serenade, usually with your barkada (friend group) or musicians  
> kuya - means big brother but can be used with any male who’s older than you tbh
> 
> jacob's filipino and if there's a prom in the next film i might be a little sad if they don't use this to their advantage
> 
> serenade definition off dictionary.com, but i added the see also

**_serenade_ **

_n., a complimentary performance of vocal or intrumental music in the open air at night, as by a lover under the window of his lady._

_see also: Filipino (Tagalog) - harana_

* * *

 

Ned’s a Filipino, which by definition could mean several opposing things, but one near-universal one is that he’s a _sap_. He’s less showy about it than Peter, but he knows a thing or two about romance and how that’s supposed to work.

For instance, his _kuya_ is big into classics: _harana_ s and flowers, courting, _the works_. Ned’s aware some of that’s phasing out in the motherland, but nostalgia and the general lack of good dudes in the romantic pool has seen a resurgence of the Old Ways, except more texting and social media.

But when Peter gets a crush on Michelle and hesitantly tells him about it, he’s...perplexed.

“I don’t know, Pete, she might hate it,” Ned admits. “I mean, she might _love_ it, but she’s kind of like, a robot, so that’s gonna be hard to tell.”

Peter squints at him. “She’s not a robot.”

“I said ‘like’ a robot. As in, her expressions—unreadable.”

“Well,” his friend breathes, “anything’s better than May’s ‘Just ask her out!’ idea. What’cha got?”

“...How does MJ feel about your singing?”

* * *

“I can’t do this,” Peter says plainly, his hand shaking the bluetooth speakers trapped within.

“You asked,” Ned rebutts, “I’m just the idea guy!”

“What if her like, parents come out? Or her _sister_?”

“I already checked—they’re still out at work. Just.” Ned shoves him into the lawn of Michelle’s house. “ _Sing_.”

It’s a terrible idea. Ned _knows_ it’s a terrible idea, but Peter kept insisting on something midway from the dull, regular motions of asking someone out to prom with just words and the hyper-exuberance of declaring his undying love in front of the whole school.

So here’s Peter.

In front of Michelle’s house.

Speaker in hand and only one backup singer (Ned) in case he falters.

Ned’s already prepared to take the reins and somehow turn it around to make Peter look like an appealing prom date, but the chances are very low. He just hopes they settled for a romantic-enough-but-also-not-too-over-the-top song, because Michelle’s been hanging with them for a while now and Ned actually likes being her friend. Besides, she knows Peter’s secret, and hasn’t treated him any differently—a sign of a true friend.

Peter gulps loudly, pressing play on the speaker. He sings along to the slow, bluesy tune, raising the tiny contraption above his head. It’s not as cool as carrying a boombox, and Ned says the _harana_ ’s usually acapella or with a guitar, but this was a good middle ground to compensate for his lack of a smooth voice and lack of instrumental talents.

Somewhere in the background, a stray cat is meowing angrily, as if offended by his vocal chords. Ned silently agrees, but it’s the thought that counts.

Half-way through, Michelle’s window opens, and she looks like she’s ready to _throw_ something at the noisemaker in her front yard, before realizing it’s just Peter with a tiny metal speaker above his head.

Peter Parker. In her front yard.

Attempting to serenade her.

“What the hell, guys?” she yells over the music. “I’m trying to do homework!”

Ned abruptly cuts the music from his phone when Peter doesn’t move, and the singing fades into the wind. “Uhh, Peter wanted to—” Ned shoves his friend forward, “—ask you something.”

“Yup,” Peter adds helpfully, suddenly looking a lot like a deer about to hit a truck.

Michelle stares at them like they’re insane, because they could’ve asked her two hours ago at Decathlon practice like normal people.

Peter gulps again. “I was wondering—”

“One sec,” Michelle says immediately, raising a finger—no, not _that_ one—to hush them and closes her window. Peter hears doors clicking and feet on stairs, and she arrives at the front door with a winter coat thrown over her t-shirt and pajamas. “You were mumbling,” she says as a response to his questioning look. She raises her chin, her hair free from its usual ponytail and flying around whenever the wind picks up. “Continue.”

Peter turns to Ned, who motions for him to step forward. He does.

“Peter, it’s freezing. Hurry up,” Michelle complains, huddling into her coat.

(In hindsight, Ned considers, they should’ve waited until at least March for this.)

“Hey, MJ,” Peter says, smiling brightly, as if the winter wind didn’t bother him one bit because the sun was right in front of him.

Michelle almost laughs, but settles for squinting at the boy, then at Ned, then back to the smiling idiot before her. It’s too cold for this. “Hey, Peter.”

He smiles wider, and courageously takes her hand. “Is it okay if I, um, ask you to prom?”

Ned sighs, the hard part done.

“Peter,” Michelle replies stiffly, making Ned tense up again. “It’s December.”

“I know.”

“Prom is in June.”

“I know.”

“Okay,” she continues slowly. “Then why the hell are you asking so early?”

Peter grins, his eyes softening. His courage is running thin. “I—I was—you could say no—but I was _wondering_ if you wanted—again, okay for a no—togooutwithmesometimemaybe?”

“What?” Michelle squints. She heard it perfectly, but she wants a confirmation. Besides, it’s fun to see him squirm.

“If you—” he repeats, raising her hand slightly where it’s clasped between both of his. “—would like to go out. Sometime. M-maybe.”

(Ned is feeling cold. Very cold. The wind’s picking up, and he remembers there’s going to be a blizzard tomorrow. The thought makes him wonder if that’s why Peter picked tonight—so in case he got a “no” he’d have a three-day weekend to recuperate.

What a smart dude.)

Michelle stares wide-eyed at Peter, surprised he actually repeated himself. She blinks. Once, twice. Peter fidgets, but forces himself to keep his eyes focused on hers.

(One time last year, her heard her criticizing the protagonist in the romantic comedy they’d just seen for always looking _around_ his love interest, instead of at her. He doesn’t know if this extends to real life, or if it was just a joke, but he’s not taking any chances.)

“Well,” Michelle starts, finding her voice. “Yeah.”

Peter stops breathing.

“About time you asked me,” she continues, hesitantly place her free hand over his still clasped hands. They don’t feel as cold as they should in this weather. She wants to laugh. “Did you know you have very bad peripheral observation skills for a superhuman?”

Peter stumbles a bit. On air. Because he does that. “Huh?”

“You’ve been staring at me in Calculus for the last four months, loser.”

“I kept telling him not to!” Ned calls from the sidewalk. “See, I’m getting better!”

Michelle laughs. “Yeah, Ned, you did good. But this—” she adds, nodding to the speaker tucked under Peter’s arm, and the general direction of the lawn, “—not your best, Leeds.”

Ned shrugs. “His idea.”

“My idea,” Peter confirms. “I know you don’t like flashy stuff, but...I thought maybe once, you know? Nothing too big, just _something_. To show you.” He seems to be up in courage again, but it’s still coming out like a jumbled mess-to-impress.

It’s okay, though. She’s catching everything he means. Michelle is quite fluent in Peter-speak, thank you very much.

“Hey, it’s cool,” she whispers, pulling him closer. It’s a pun, honestly, because that little gust that just passed was _cold_ , _dang_. She offers him a soft smile and squeezes his hands; poor thing’s probably going crazy in his head. “It’s fine, Peter. I liked it.”

He beams, and it’s very possible that Ned decided to play a romantic love song in a foreign language that is not French, but Michelle can’t hear anything over the sound of her heartbeat.

There’s something different about Peter’s smile tonight, something she hasn’t seen even when he was talking to Liz before. There’s a level of comfort and familiarity mixed in with the _light_ , the—

Ah.

 _Well_.

Guess he’s in love now.

By the flips in her stomach that she’s been ignoring the past few months or so, she’s sure it’s mutual.

(Ned’s doing that phone-candle thing on the sidewalk now. He’s a one-man crowd sashaying left and right to the music, because _someone_ has to.)

“Not too off-key?” Peter breathes.

A snort. “Actually, very off-key, but I was trying to save you some dignity.” She rubs a circle with her thumb over his hands.

He’s still smiling at her.

“Peter?”

“Mhm?”

“You can kiss me if you want.”

He sputters, floundering. The joy in his eyes are replaced with fear and embarrassment. “Ned’s—”

“He dug his own grave trying to get you to pull a _harana_ stunt,” she states, smiling teasingly. Her eyes dart to the side, spying their friend still acting like he’s at a concert. “Besides, I think if we give in now he won’t try to spy on us on our first date.”

“He won’t—” Peter blinks. “—Okay, he might.”

“He _will_.”

“That is a terrible reason to kiss you right now.”

“It’s pretty cold, though,” Michelle says monotonously, moving closer. “And you’re basically a heater.”

“That’s—that’s true,” he concedes, copying her. He watches her pull her coat tighter around herself. He puts a hand on her cheek—she’s _really_ cold. “MJ, you’re _freezing_.”

She shakes out a breath. “I wasn’t exactly planning on standing here this long. Sue me.”

Peter laughs, clouds forming from his chuckles. “Sorry, I—”

She shuts him up by leaning down—boy, those few inches will never get old—and kissing him slowly. It’s awkward and Peter _squeaks_ and she thinks this is the closest thing she’ll have to a spidey-sense because everything is _amplified_ , but it feels like coming home. Or free-falling from 20,000 ft., but she’ll have to get back to you on that.

“Hey, loser,” she whispers with a smile after they finally break apart. “That was _way_ more for my benefit.”

“You’re shaking,” Peter laughs softly, resting his forehead on hers. He’s sure his face is basically a tomato. “You should get back inside.”

Michelle shrugs, her face suddenly expressionless. “‘Kay. Bye.” She pulls her hands from him, quickly re-entering her house and closing the door in his face.

“Uh, I’m pretty sure that’s not what’s supposed to happen,” Ned says, jogging over and pausing the music. “Is that what’s supposed to happen?”

Peter blinks dumbly, staring at the door. “Maybe? It’s MJ.”

Ned nods contemplatively like he’d just received a long-winded explanation of why the universe is the way it is.

...Really not that far off, actually.

When nothing happens, they start walking back to Peter’s place, eager for some hot chocolate and a nice sleepover to curb the incoming blizzard. They get a few meters from Michelle’s door when she ducks out her window and calls their names.

They turn, and spot her in the widest grin they’ve _ever_ seen her with in the past three-and-a-half years. “Hey, Ned!”

Ned blinks, confused. He gives Peter a look that asks, _You were the one who kissed her, right?_

Peter raises his shoulders helplessly.

Ned looks up. “Yeah?”

“Tell that nerd you keep hanging out with that I’m free after school on Monday, since he forgot to ask.”

“You’re free after school everyday,” he quips back, then recoils when Michelle frowns at him. “Y-yes, ma’am. I’ll do that.”

“Good thought, Leeds,” she salutes, throwing a wink at Peter and retreating back into her room.

A _wink_.

Now, Ned knows Peter’s susceptible to going weak in the knees when his affections are reciprocated. He knows this quite well.

It’s just, y’know, Michelle winking was never a possibility in his mind nor Peter’s, so of course when it happens he finds out Spider-Man’s truest weakness is a wink from a girl who teases them incessantly and thinks Peter has objectively confusing eyebrows.

And that is how, Ned Leeds, a true, loyal friend, half-carries Peter home to the tune of South Border’s _Ikaw Nga_ , and attempts to explain to his aunt why, exactly, the bluetooth speakers he borrowed from her feels like an icicle.

Because, you see, Ned’s Filipino.

And Filipinos _love_ watching people fall in love.

**Author's Note:**

> how many people thought this was going to be a prom-heavy fic bc im SORRY but im also NOT
> 
> s/o to 90's OPM classics cuz "ikaw nga" is killer and a Big Mood for many ships
> 
> im a sucker for The Harana(TM), and had to fight myself from being a cliche and making the song harana by parokya ni edgar


End file.
